


Taking Pain and Talking Theses

by CRAmber



Series: Domestic and Drama-Free [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Author, Author Derek, College, M/M, New York City, Writer, grad student, grad student Stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRAmber/pseuds/CRAmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Derek is an author and teaches some community college classes on the side, and Stiles is a grad student getting his masters from Columbia and they live together in a tiny one bedroom apartment in New York City far far away from the drama that is Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Pain and Talking Theses

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the lovely sterekpotter100 on tumblr!

Derek tilted his head up in a gesture reminiscent of a puppy seeing a squirrel for the first time as he heard footsteps coming down the hall.  The heartbeat he listened for next confirmed his hope.  He made his way to the door of the apartment, opening it before Stiles had even begun to dig for his key, and breathed in the scent of strangers on the subway, mingled with the old, overused books of the library Stiles had spent the day working in.

“Derek!”  Stiles exclaimed, taken aback but also clearly content to see Derek home, “I didn’t think you’d be here, aren’t you supposed to be teaching now?”

“Yeah but it’s my creative writing class and they’ve just gotta finish one more assignment by the end of the year, they’re all cool with coming to my office hours if they need help so I called off class for today,” Derek explained.

“Perfect, you can carry this to the living room and fix the horrible cramp in my shoulder,” Stiles instructed, shrugging off his backpack into Derek’s willing arms and making his way to the couch.

“I still don’t see how a ten by ten room can be considered living space,” Derek chuckled, and Stiles reveled in the sound.  Derek laughed more often now, but Stiles still sometimes worried that each laugh would be the last.  

Derek took a seat on the couch, spreading his legs so Stiles could sit in front of him, and laid his hands on Stiles’ back, massaging the kinks out of his shoulders.  Stiles let out a gasp that, Derek took pride in noting, was just short of a moan, before Derek moved lower, rubbing slow, soothing circles across Stiles’ back.  Stiles leaned back into the motion, letting his eyes fall closed as a real moan escaped his lips.

“So how’s your thesis going?”

“Derek you know I have no idea how to write a thesis.”

“Okay but didn’t you write about the same thing for like five different reports in high school?

“Yes, Derek, I did.  And surprisingly enough, my high school work can’t pass for a Graduate thesis,” Stiles whined, followed quickly by an “Ow!”

“Shh, shh just relax,” Derek soothed, his palm stopping on Stiles’ shoulder to take some of the pain.  “Better?”

Stiles ignored the question in favor of saying, “You know when I said I have no idea how to write a thesis, I was hoping you’d actually, I don’t know, _help me_!"

“Stiles, I can’t write your graduate thesis for you,” Derek spoke like one who was truly long-suffering.  Which he probably was.  He was living with Stiles after all.

“Well, no.  But you could read it over for me and make copious edits so that it sounds like something someone getting a Masters Degree from Columbia would actually write,”

“Stiles.  I’m not reading your thesis on the history of male circumcision.”  

“Fine, I don’t need you,” Stiles proclaimed, standing up in mock anger before quickly falling back into his spot on the couch, saying “Ow ow ow, fuck, fix my shoulder,”  Derek sighed and replaced his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.  

“What was that you were saying?”  Derek smirked.

“Yeah yeah yeah, just fix it, asshole,” Stiles grumbled, “You and your werewolfy powers never have to deal with this shit.”  Derek just shook his head and continued the slow, rhythmic motion of his fingers.  When it seemed like Stiles was no longer in pain, Derek shifted a little.

“You better now?”  he asked.

“Yeah, thanks Der,” Stiles responded, nodding slowly.

“So what do you want to eat?” Derek asked, maneuvering himself around Stiles to get up off of the couch.  Stiles ignored the warm, annoying feeling in his chest that seemed to be trying to let him know something was different.  Stiles had come home from class, just like always.  Derek was going to make them dinner, just like always.  

And if the little voice in the back of Stiles’ head was telling him the back rub meant something more?  Stiles was content not to question it.


End file.
